


The Blessings of Silence

by DrJekyl



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 04:21:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3236054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrJekyl/pseuds/DrJekyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Benezia receives an unexpected anniversary present.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Blessings of Silence

Benezia stood at the edge of the verandah that shaded the house from the hot summer sun, placed her hands upon the balustrade ringing it, closed her eyes and listened.  
  
The sound of the afternoon’s sea breeze rustling through the gardens greeted her ears, along with the distant chatter of birds and closer calls of insects.  A soft, high biotic hum suggested the presence of a honeyeater somewhere nearby, come to steal the last of the late season fruit.  If she strained hard enough, she thought she might even hear the sea.

But, beyond that, there was nothing.  No chatter.  No laughter.  No voices raised in song or prayer or argument.  No background hum of terminals or vidscreens, no doors slammed shut or slid open, no footsteps upon stairs of flagstones or floors.  For once, the house was quiet.  Quiet enough that, with only the slightest of efforts, Benezia could believe that she was truly alone within it. 

The rest of the household had vanished over the past few days until she were left, now, with only the chef and a handful of her most senior guards. The former was hidden away in the depths of the kitchen, the latter ever-silent when on patrol and preferring to haunt the barracks when not.  
  
The sudden exodus of her students had initially taken her quite aback.  There were such things as family emergencies, certainly, and she would never dream of saying no to attendance of such.  Sometimes, yes, there were extended errands to be run, especially before a large speaking engagement, days or weeks of groundwork to be laid.  So, too, were there lectures and seminars to attend, to further minds; conferences and debates to engage in, to raise profiles; and festivals and ceremonies to revel in, to nourish souls.  Young, for the most part, they came to Benezia to learn and grow as people; she would be a poor teacher indeed if she insisted they attend to her word and no other.  But such a confluence of absences was unprecedented in her tenure as head of an _atamna_ , and it had left her concerned she had made an error of some sort, be it in scheduling or teaching or simple awareness, to have so many wish to leave her side at once.  
  
That was, of course, until she had realised the date on which the greatest number of absences fell.  Before she had seen the underlying pattern to it all, the months and more of careful orchestration of rosters and requests and approvals.  
  
The thought brought the smile, never far away since the realisation, back to her lips. She had not _forgotten_ , precisely, the date.  She had ensured she’d the day free of distractions, and even bought a token to represent her own affections, well before now, along with a fourth copper bead and skeins of rich, strong threads with which to renew their bracelets and their bond.  But she had not put great emphasis on it, even this year, nor had she actively made plans for the day.  It was, after all, not something they’d ever been able to celebrate openly, not when ‘pureblood’ was a slur and Benezia in the public eye, word of their bonding itself as close kept a secret as they could manage.  There were no dinners, no parties, no ceremonies in which to share the joy of their union with others, even within their household. There were simply private words in private rooms, the happy affirmation of the deepest meld they could sustain without consequence.  
  
The fortieth year would be somewhat different, it seemed.  
  
Her smile only broadened when she heard the creak of floorboards behind her.  She could, she thought, convince herself that she was alone in the house with little effort.  But, the question was: why would she want to?  Why indeed, when she could have a warm, soft body against her back, strong arms encircling her waist as they were now.  
  
"So," Aethyta said conversationally, resting her chin on Benezia’s shoulder to follow her gaze out over the courtyard, to the pool and gardens beyond, "the kids’re finally all out of the house, the commandos are out on patrol and that pain-in-the-ass press secretary of yours knows that it’s life and death stuff only… Looks like it’s just you and me, babe."  
  
"It does rather, doesn’t it?" Benezia sighed in contentment, feeling the last of her residual tension drain away as she relaxed into the embrace.  "Three days.  Should I ask how you managed it?"  
  
"What makes you think I had anything to do with it?"  
  
"Call it," she paused, breath catching as lips brushed the side of her neck, once, twice, thrice, _just so_ , “intuition.”  
  
The ghost of a chuckle drifted across her skin, warm and light and electrifying.  She let her head tilt to the side, baring her neck further in an invitation that was acted upon as soon as it was offered.  She sighed again, softly, and found herself thankful that she had been daring in her choice of outfit, leaving her neck all but bare in the hopes of just such an eventuality.  
  
"Simple persuasion.  You should know I can be _real_ persuasive with the right motivation.”  
  
"Mmm.  And what, then, motivates you?" she asked, reaching up and back to trail her fingertips along that strong jaw, those high cheekbones, her lips quirking upwards again as she felt Aethyta lean slightly into the touch.  "I ask for future reference’s sake, obviously."  
  
Another gentle chuckle.  
  
"Aw, you know. The usual.  Credits.  Good booze.  Really _big_ explosions.”  When Benezia turned her head back to look askance at that, Aethyta grinned and slid her hands, loosely clasped around Benezia’s waist, down to her hips to pull her back, settling more firmly against her. “‘course, the promise of a nice piece of ass provides a lot of motivation, I find.”  
  
To her breasts now, both hands with a sure grip, calloused thumbs gently circling over her nipples through the silk cloth of her top; Benezia could see Aethyta’s eyes darkening with each pass, and knew they mirrored her own. 

“Great tits, too,” Aethyta continued, voice dark and husky as her eyes.  “Always a winner.”  
  
"I suppose I have found them to be an excellent motivational tool in the past," she agreed, her own voice low and rich with amusement at the familiar litany. Aethyta had ever made little pretence about what did and did not appeal to her; one of the many ways in which she was refreshingly direct.  "To select asari, at least.  One in particular springs to mind."  
  
" I bet." Aethyta squeezed her breasts again for emphasis, before capturing and rolling each hardened nub between thumb and forefinger. 

Benezia sighed again, savouring the ache building there, and along her neck and between her legs. 

"But you wanna know what _really_ motivates me?”  
  
"Do tell."  
  
Aethyta stopped her ministrations for a moment, leaning forward to bring her mouth into line with Benezia’s ear.  Benezia closed her eyes and repressed a shudder as warm breath drifted across sensitive skin once more.  
  
"What really motivates me," Aethyta said, voice pitching into the rough, smoky purr that always made Benezia’s toes curl, "is the prospect of having a few days alone with a beautiful, brainy asari who’s crazy enough to want to bind her life to mine.   That’ll do it every time."  
  
The angle of the kiss that followed was slightly awkward, even uncomfortable, Benezia twisting back around to meet her halfway, but it did not matter.  It mattered even less, shortly thereafter, when she found herself spun around completely and all but bent over hard balustrade, her blouse unbuttoned and skirt discarded.  By then Aethyta’s hand was between her legs, head buried between her breasts, and Benezia’s own hands were upon Aethyta’s neck and shoulders and crest and wherever else she could reach, both lost within each other’s pleasure. 

Then came dinner and the long dining table - because when would they have the chance again? - though not, and Benezia had been firm on that point, until the chef had been thanked for the meal and sent away.  Far away.  For the next few days.  At least one of them would surely remember how to cook in the interim.  
  
Nightfall found them lounging by the pool at the garden’s edge, a blanket between them and the warm stone and earth, nothing between each other but the shadows cast by luminous _mi’tolan_ trees under the clear, starlit sky.  Benezia lay with her head pillowed upon Aethyta’s naked thigh, content to listen to her tell stories from her life while she carefully wove together the threads whose ends Aethyta held fast.  When she was done, they would swap: her turn to speak, her turn to weave.  Then, she thought, they might drowse together, for a time, or swim, or make love again.  Or, perhaps, they would do all three, and more.  Why not?  For once, there was little enough risk of interruptions, and for once they had time enough to spare.  For once, they need not mute voices or hide laughter, or be at all mindful of the presence of others.  For once, they could be as loud and as open as they liked, love as they wished, when and where their hearts took them.

As presents went, it was by far the best Benezia had ever received.


End file.
